


Muscle Memory

by Aiza_60



Series: Assassin Children AU [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Amnesia, Assassin Children, Dami and Cass being gremlins, Gen, Jason being responsible, League of Assasins, Original side characters, Sibling Bonding, character injuries, give these kids a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:36:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26912254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aiza_60/pseuds/Aiza_60
Summary: The League of Assasins is no place for children... and yet several (including an amnesiac zombie, an arrogant prince and a silent champion) cross paths one fateful day. Thanks to the help of a ridiculous junior hero team, Jay, Cassandra and Damian manage to escape to America. Now, it should be smooth sailing– except Jay now is closer to remembering the remembering his old life, and he isn't going to let the chance slip through his fingers.
Relationships: Artemis Crock/Wally West, Cassandra Cain & Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Assassin Children AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1992127
Comments: 39
Kudos: 460
Collections: Batfam Big Bang 2020





	1. The Meetings of Zombies, Princes and Ninjas

**Author's Note:**

> A massive thank you to 
> 
> my betas: geekinthecorner, justinalittleovermyhead, and fandomanddenial
> 
> my artists: Enbykonel, jdrawsdoodles, and lexartsies
> 
> You guys are awesome!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to EnbyKonel on tumblr for the magnificent art! https://aizashard.tumblr.com/post/631510698935074816

The corridors leading to Grandfather’s arena smelled musty. He scarcely took these tunnels which was probably why he had neglected to clean it. Damian fought the urge to wrinkle his nose– an act that did not seem very dignified in his position. Instead, he kept his face calm, although he doubted Mother would have noticed if his composure slipped in the dim torchlight.

Mother’s near-silent footsteps sounded behind him. Her hand pressed into Damian’s shoulder, offering something akin to reassurance. “You will do wonderfully, my pride.” Well, _that_ was unnecessary. Of _course_ Damian would do well. He was the grandson of the Demon’s Head, after all. He was only ten and yet he had already surpassed masters of combat. Damian didn’t think the same could be said about Mother’s _pet_.

 _Jay_. Damian almost scowled at the thought of him, despite the boy in mention walking less than two metres behind him. Mother had been obsessed with fixing him, so he heard the guards say. He had come to Damian’s home comatose– or close to it anyway. Damian didn’t exactly care. Jay had taken up so much of Mother’s time and dare he think it– love– that he didn’t think it even possible to like the boy. He was a dirty thief and fought like one too. A coward who fought without honour simply because he couldn’t win with it.

The corridor finally opened up and the bright daylight assaulted Damian’s eyes. He blinked. The arena was large enough with sandy floors. Grandfather sat on an ornate chair atop a booth to view the fight. But beside him stood– Mother’s hand tightened on his shoulder. David Cain.

Mother’s low voice whispered to him. “Do not fight to win.” Did she sound… scared? Damian didn’t have time to ponder her words as she made her way towards Grandfather. Now Damian was left here alone with the thief.

Grandfather stood. “My grandson!” he began, ignoring Jay completely. Damian smirked at that. “Today we are here to test your skills. Or rather, the skills of David Cain’s daughter.” Daughter? David Cain had a daughter? “Good luck my heir. Do me proud.”

A petite girl around Jay’s age stepped forward. Damian didn’t know how to feel. She might’ve been several years his senior but she didn’t exactly seem that threatening. She simply looked… blank.

Damian was about to step forward himself to challenge her when Jay blocked him. Damian growled. “What are you doing, you imbecile?” He gave the boy a small shove.  
“Saving your butt, _brat_. Talia told me to go first to let you see how she fights.” The thief gave Damian a pointed look. “Wouldn’t want to _lose_ in front of dear old _Grandfather_ now would you?”

With a snarl, Damian backed down. At least Mother had given him this advantage. Clearly, Jay was just a test subject. As he should be.

Jay unsheathed his pair of shortswords. The blades glinted wickedly in the dimming light of the afternoon. The girl’s hands were empty. She sized Jay up, her fingers betraying only the slightest twitch.

The thief twirled the swords. He muttered something under his breath; Damian’s seat from the audience was too far away to make it out, but the girl seemed to snap to attention. She moved like a coiled spring, each graceful movement purposefully hiding power behind them. She approached Jay slowly and he ran to meet her like the hot-head he was.

Before Jay even landed one strike, the girl’s arm shot out and twisted a sword out of his hand. She darted away, quickly now, before jumping back at him to repeat the process. Damian could clearly see Jay’s stunned expression from the stands when the second sword hit the floor. He let out an angry yell and leapt to attack with only his fists.

Damian had to admit: Jay had excellent form and deadly precision. But _this girl_ made him seem like an inexperienced novice. For all the power behind his blows, they never met anything but air. He never landed a hit on her.

But neither did she. She’d never once instigated an offensive attack, Damian noticed. Well, until Cain called her name sternly down at her. “Cassandra.” She’d stiffened, and in that instant, Damian thought Jay might be able to get a blow in.

He was wrong. She regained her composure within a split second. With a well-placed blow to the jaw, she threw him off-kilter for long enough to wrap her slender arms around his neck and _squeeze_. Jay crumpled within seconds.

 _He never landed a hit on her_. The girl– Cassandra– stood over his unconscious body looking just as blank as she did before. The arena was silent.

Damian’s mind wasn’t. What would Grandfather do if he lost? What if he lost just as easily as Jay did? Jay wasn’t an _heir_ , he didn’t have much to lose. But Damian? Would Grandfather– No, he wouldn’t lose. He could _not_ allow such thoughts to enter his head.

Damian was so distracted, he didn’t notice that Mother had approached him until she spoke. “You fight at sundown. I advise you to make use of the distractions provided. Be careful Damian.” She beckoned the servants carrying Jay to the corridor leading away from the arena.  
Sundown. He had some time to question Jay about the fight, then. Otherwise, he did not see why his fight was so delayed other than to fray his nerves. Not that _that_ would happen. Damian al-Ghul did not _get_ frayed nerves.

He cast one look around the arena. The girl stood beside her father in the booth. Warily, Damian met the face of his own Grandfather. Those millennia-old eyes narrowed at him. Grandfather’s unspoken words rang clear in Damian’s ears.

 _“You exist at my sufferance.”_  
_____________________

Jay groaned as he cracked an eye open to torchlight. The flickering flickering flickering was going to give him a headache, he could already feel it. Damn Ra’s and his stupid aesthetic.

A hand brushed his hair away from his face, bangles clinking. Talia. “How are you, Jay?”

The fight came rushing back with the force of a waterfall. He rubbed his jaw tentatively. “I think my ego needs to see a doctor, Tals.”

Talia chuckled. “And I suppose asking for your sense of humour to need a doctor is too much then, isn’t it?”

Jay grunted. He sat up, immediately regretting the decision. “Hey, where’s the brat?”

Talia magnanimously ignored his choice of words. “Damian is preparing for his fight at sundown. See to it that you have my servant bring you.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“There will be food provided at the arena if you’re hungry, which I’m sure you are,” Talia smiled, placing an affectionate hand on Jay’s shoulder before she left.

Left alone with a pounding head, Jay reasoned he should probably rest. After all, he wanted to enjoy watching Cain wipe the floor with Damian. And hey, food did sound like a nice thing to wake up to.

Jay slipped away quickly. That didn’t happen often enough. Sleep was almost impossible when dreams kept disrupting his rest. Most times, he dreamt of murky, almost happenings, although he could never be sure if the memories were real or not. Snatching ‘free samples’ from an old rickety pizza place. Sliding down polished wood banisters. An old English butler. Stone gargoyles on towering buildings.

The lack of context was frustrating. Those ‘memories’ couldn’t possibly all be from the same lifetime. But Jay could never be sure– there was something about those dreams, those visions that seemed real. They could be– but it was hard to tell when they were all obscured by that poisonous green haze.

Most nights though, he was glad for the haze. Most nights, memories of pain and fear bubbled to the surface. Memories of malicious cackling and heat. And always, _always_ a clock, telling him he was out of time.

Jay woke quickly. A clock, a _clock_ , always a _clock_. He was out of time. And now Ra’s would come for him because he wasn’t good enough. Was _never_ good enough–Jay sat up.

He exhaled. The uneasiness was still there, festering in his chest, growing and ebbing with every breath. He needed to get up– to do something, anything to distract himself from that horrible cackling.

Talia’s offer seemed like a good idea right now. Jay pulled on his uniform which was folded neatly in the corner and strapped his swords to his back. Talia’s servant appeared immediately when he summoned him.

The servant was eerily silent as he led Jay through the compound. He never spoke–not that he could. The servants were traitors and defectors who had paid the price of their crimes with their tongues. And those were the lucky ones.

Jay didn’t want to think about the others.

Didn’t want to think about what might become of him. There was enough blood in his dreams anyway.

Maybe it had to do with the light of the dimming evening, but somehow, the spectacle surrounding Damian’s match seemed so much grander than his. The little demon couldn’t even get his butt kicked humbly.

In hopes of finding Talia, Jay scanned the crowd. There were League initiates, servants, League teachers. The teachers were what fascinated Jay the most. They sat by themselves, lonesome and untrusting. They were right to, of course. Loyalty to Ra’s was the only loyalty required. All else was unnecessary.

It was not an unfamiliar concept. Somehow, the constant alertness was normal. The paranoia and fear was normal. It _felt_ normal.

Jay didn’t know if he should be comforted or disturbed by that.

“There you are, _habibi_ ,” Talia’s voice purred from beside him. “Come with me. We have much to discuss.”

He followed her to her seat, walking a step behind her. Jay could feel hundreds of eyes on him. Talia’s favour _was_ what had made him so hated amongst initiates after all.

The woman motioned for him to sit. Damian, who sat at her right hand, shot Jay a scowl. Jay ignored him.

“No matter the outcome of this fight, there _will_ be blood. Either you will pay for your defeat or Cassandra will pay for hers.” Talia sighed loudly. When she spoke again, her tone was all-business. “The League is not safe for you. I have received word that an enemy aircraft is heading towards us. They should arrive quite soon. When they do, both of you will board the aircraft I have left waiting at the docks. You will follow its flight path to America. Is that clear?”

Jay couldn’t believe what he was hearing. For Talia to declare something to outwardly against the League was… unsettling.

Damian sputtered. “But Mother! We cannot abandon the League when it is under attack! It is Our duty to protect it. Grandfather will–”

“Know nothing of this,” Talia interrupted. “You will go to America with Jay. You _will_ listen to him. Is that clear?”

Jay fought the urge to send Damian a smug grin. ‘ _You’ve got to listen to_ me _now Demon!’_

The boy lowered this head. “Yes, Mother.”

Talia straightened her posture. “Good. Know that I love you both very dearly.”

America. Jay knew he was born there. Breathed its air and eaten its food. He’d been called _American_ distastefully so many times it was impossible not to acknowledge it. But he didn’t remember it. Not really anyway. He wondered if he could keep himself and Damian afloat there, alone and without memories.

Well it was either trying to get by there or facing the League here. Jay much preferred the former.

Did Jay have a family there? Everyone had family, right? Would he find his parents? Did they miss him? Did they wonder where he was? Did they–

A horn sounded from the rooftops, signalling the alarm.

The arena emptied themselves as initiates filed themselves into ranks to await orders from Ra’s. Jay didn’t wait around to watch. He slipped the hood of his uniform up, put on his mask and melted into the familiar shadows of the declining day.

Explosions sounded behind him, sending parts of the compound crumpling. The enemy was causing a lot of trouble for the League, as Jay ran into nearly no guards that weren’t occupied by the current matter. He might’ve grinned at that.

The docks were in sight now. The aircraft Talia had promised to leave for them was idling on the far side, ready to take off at a moment's notice. Jay hoped Damian was already on board because Jay sure as hell wasn’t waiting around for him.

Jay closed the distance hurriedly. One hundred feet. Ninety. Eighty. It was almost too easy.

Until it wasn’t .

A man dressed in dark combat gear dropped in front of him. There was a blue emblem on his chest. _This was the enemy Talia spoke of._ He held two sticks in his hands, each arcing with electricity.

“Sorry, you’re not going anywhere tonight, buddy.”

Jay froze. That voice. He _knew_ that voice. It taunted him whenever his mind was too tired to push away the visions. _You don’t deserve it. Never have, never will._ Each syllable was a vicious creature trying to claw itself out of his brain. He felt like he was going to throw up.

No, there was no time for that now. No time to wallow in voices from his visions. He swallowed carefully and drew his blade.

The man shrugged. “Well if you want to do it the hard way…” he said and threw himself at Jay.

Nevermind the pain building behind his eyes. Nevermind the bile that rose in Jay’s throat. He barely managed to block the first strike in time, Jay ducked under the second blow, the wind knocking the hood from his face.

“Wow, sure do start ‘em young here. Gotta grow into that cult mindset, am I right?” Jay slashed at the man who flipped backwards with gravity-defying ease. “Dude, come on. You can’t be more than seventeen.”

 _Stop. Talking_. Every word was like a hammer to the head. _Please_. If this guy continued to fight as he was, Jay might be stuck here in the League forever.

 _Think Jay!_ On further inspection, he had cleverly-hidden pockets on his suit. When the man got close enough, Jay went for the prize. He had successfully pilfered some kind of tiny flash bomb by the time the man sprang away.

Jay threw the bomb to the floor fervently. The small pellet exploded with a loud bang and a flash of light. While the man recovered himself, Jay stumbled as quickly as he could to the aircraft.

The bay doors sighed closed. “Took you long enough,” Damian grumbled over the aircraft’s loudspeakers.

“You could’ve helped,” Jay retorted, even though Damian wouldn’t be able to hear it.

Now that he was relatively safe, Jay slumped against the wall. Why had that man suddenly brought on that… that nauseating reaction? The aircraft took off, slamming Jay against the unforgiving floor. He groaned. God, he was a mess.


	2. Don't Take Candy From a Stranger

Cassandra didn’t break the intense stare-off between her and the younger boy. He screamed ‘I don’t trust’ with every movement. That was fine. Cassandra didn’t trust either. 

From atop her perch, she could feel the ground shaking. The heart of the plane roared. She felt it going up up up. Up and away from the fights. From Him. 

Cassandra sighed. Away from the fights was good. Fights were noise and blood and hurt. She didn’t want to live noise and blood and hurt. So she left, simple as breathing.

Except, _except_ noise and blood and hurt were all she knew. All else was unfamiliar. Cassandra didn’t like unfamiliar. Unfamiliar warranted wariness and slim dodges. It only gave malice, so Cassandra returned it. 

Another boy staggered into the cabin. His walk said he was not well. His dazed eyes said it. He stared at her. Cassandra stared back. The boy from the first fight, she realized. There were bruises around his neck. Something reared its ugly head at the sight of them. She wished they were gone. She looked away. 

But the boy was no longer focused on her. He threw words at the younger boy like knives. The younger hurled them back with equal force. Cassandra watched the quarrel silently. By the time they finished, she was no longer paying attention. 

The older turned back to her. He approached carefully. No threat, no threat, no threat. Why did he present himself like that? _She_ had attacked him. He spoke to her, softly now. She didn’t understand. 

“Hey, you’re Cassandra right?” 

She stiffened. He knew her name. She only ever heard her name when she was to do something. Cassandra narrowed her eyes. What did he want?

“I’m Jay,” the older said, gesturing to himself. 

Jay. His name? Cassandra tilted her head. His name was Jay. 

Jay pointed to the younger boy, who scowled. “That’s Damian…” 

He continued talking, low and soft. Cassandra didn’t understand most of it. She didn’t understand why he was talking to her. Why when he was pale and his eyes were drooping and his voice was raspy and sweat beaded on his forehead. Jay confused her. 

Then he did something that confused her even more. Jay offered a rectangular object wrapped in shiny plastic. She noticed that Damian and Jay each had one of their own. Jay made a show of tearing off the wrapper and biting into it. 

“You’ve never had a protein bar before?” 

Tentatively, Cassandra peeled off the wrapper of her own. She nibbled at the bar experimentally. It was sweet. She took another bite. And another. It was gone before she knew it. 

Maybe she could have another? She looked at Jay. He smiled tiredly at her. Why? Why was he doing this? Cassandra didn’t know what to do. What did Jay want from her? Why was he acting like this? 

Unnerved, she slipped out of the room. She needed to be somewhere safe. She felt heavy heavy heavy and decided that she wanted to rest. 

After some searching, she found an empty space in the storage compartment. It was dark, quiet, and well away from the boys. She tucked herself into it. It felt safe. That was good. Safe meant sleep, if only for a while.

_______________________

If Damian’s calculations were correct (which of course they were), the aircraft would land much sooner than he’d originally thought. He mentally ran through the plan that he was supposed to relay to Jay per Mother’s request. Dock at Happy Harbour. Travel to the location of Mother’s local safehouse and survive on the funds that she would remotely provide. Live indefinitely away from _everything_ Damian had known. All while maintaining a persona of an average ten-year-old American boy. It would be quite simple if Mother hadn’t demanded that Jay, _the imbecile,_ be in charge. 

Damian glanced at him. The fool seemed to have fallen into a feverish slumber. _Weak_. Had Jay still been with the League, he would have been dead. 

The League. Damian had been made to assume the role of a traitor and deserter. He had given up so much; his honour, his inheritance, his status. And for what? To listen to Jay? 

Damian _seethed_. It wasn’t fair. 

He kicked an empty protein bar wrapper that Cain had left on the floor. Disgusting. Damian hadn’t even been allowed to prove his worth against her. He’d win, of course. He wasn’t hopeless like Cain and Jay. Cain didn’t seem to understand anything that he and Jay said while speaking. She just sat there, blank, dumb and listless. She might be a good fighter, but otherwise, she was hopeless. 

The aircraft landed. Damian should alert the others, being the only competent one in the group. 

_Wait_. What were they? Were they even a group? Were they allies? 

He didn’t particularly want to answer that. Instead, he opted to wake Jay in the most annoying way possible. 

“Wake up you dolt,” Damian called, pinching the boy’s ears. 

Jay cracked an eye open. Definitely not the response Damian was going for. Oh well. 

“What do you want, brat?” 

“We’ve landed,” he sniffed. “Had you stayed alert, you would have known that.” 

The thief groaned, rubbing his face. He mumbled something incomprehensible at Damian before repeating himself. “Where are we?”

“Happy Harbour. Mother has a safe house waiting.” 

Jay nodded. He stood up, staying in place for five seconds before passing out on the floor. 

Damian grumbled. “Well isn’t this just wonderful.” 

Had Cain not shown up moments later without notice, Damian thought he might scream. With minimal prompting from Damian, she had managed to carry Jay out of the craft. It descended into the water seconds after they exited. Damian sighed. He had no choice but to get to the safehouse. 

It turned out that young children walking alone at night were not commonplace in Happy Harbour. Damian felt the stares of several people as they walked, despite Damian trying to stay away from as many people as possible. Finally, some poor soul approached them after having stared at the trio for a while. 

“Hey, are you kids alright over there?” A woman called. She wore a pair of nurse’ scrubs and a headscarf. She looked as if she were going home for the night. 

Damian’s hand hovered over his concealed blade. “Yes.”

The woman crouched down. “It’s a little early for Halloween, don’t you think?” She extended her hand. “My name’s Sannah, by the way.”

“Good for you.” 

Surprisingly, this didn’t turn the woman away. “Is your friend alright there?”

“Yes. He is perfectly healthy.” 

Of course, this was just the perfect time for Jay to let out an audible groan. Damian wanted to gut him. Cain (the imbecile) placed Jay on the floor. The low light made him look ghostly pale and was he… shivering?

“Honey, I know it's not any of my business, but I’ve worked fifteen years as a pediatrician. I think I know when I see a kid that’s sick.”

Damian gave the woman a once-over before glancing back at Jay. He _would_ be free of Jay’s annoying face if he were put out of commission. But, but if Jay stayed like this or got worse, what would Damian do with him? Leave him on the street and risk League information getting out? Damian refused to acknowledge the twinge in his chest when he thought about bearing the brunt of facing this new life. 

He drew his blade and the woman’s eyes widened. “If you try to take advantage of this, I will skin you. You may examine him however.” 

Cain stepped back to let the woman pass. Damian noticed that although her hands didn’t hover over any weapons, her stance alone confirmed that she was ready to spring into attack at a moment's notice. 

“He’s got a very high fever. How long has he been like this?” 

“I do not know, woman. He should be capable of taking care of himself.”

The woman frowned.”Do you have any parents or guardians we can call? I have the equipment needed to bring his fever down at my clinic but I want to let your parents know first.”

Damian pointed his blade at her. “We are competent by ourselves.”

“Alright.” She pushed the blade out of her face calmly. “ Do you think you can come with me?” 

“We will come. However, know that any ulterior motives you may have will never come into fruition.”

Cain helped to carry Jay’s limp body to the woman’s car. Damian still didn’t trust her. She had never asked for anything in return for her services. Nothing was for free. 

However, if they didn't have Jay, they lost an edge in adjusting to this new life. One that Jay had presumably already lived, in another lifetime. It was nothing sentimental, Damian reminded himself. Jay was simply an asset that would be annoying to lose. 

The woman (“Please, call me Sannah”) pulled up two chairs in the doctor’s room of a dinky clinic. The bright lights were starting to give Damian a headache. Cain sat beside him, skittish as ever. Damian did admit to being jumpy himself, but certainly not skittish. 

After Sannah was finished treating Jay (why did he have so many wires surrounding him?), she passed them a jar filled with … colourful circles… on sticks. 

“What is this?”

“Wow, overprotective parents are getting worse every year...” Sannah plucked one from the container, unwrapped it and put it in her mouth. “Candy on a stick. You know, lollipops?”

Cain took one. After seeing the way her face lit up at tasting it, Damian followed her example. They were sweet and artificial but… quite nice.

“They are adequate.”

“Good!” Sannah smiled. “You kids can hang out here for as long as you need. Let me know if your friend gets worse or if you need anything. The bathroom is down the hall to the right if you need it.” With that, she left the trio alone in the room. 

Damian spat the lollipop in the garbage. He couldn’t be sure that the woman hadn’t tampered with the candy. Cain didn’t seem to care about that particular fact. 

He turned to her. “I shall take first watch. You may rest.”

The girl scooted her own chair to the corner of the room but didn’t sleep. She sat there with her lollipop and watched Damian like a hawk. It was clear that neither of them would be sleeping. 

After several hours, Jay started to stir. He called for a man by the name of ‘Alfie’. Damian knew of no such persona. He decided to ignore it. How long would it take for Jay to become lucid? He made a move to wake him fully but Cain stopped him. Her expression conveyed her message clearly. _Don’t._

Damian sighed and slid back into his seat. His prayers were answered about an hour later, when Jay woke fully, looking very confused. 

“If you must know, we are in an emergency clinic and you have been unconscious for far longer than necessary,” he droned without prompting. Best to fill Jay as in as quickly as possible and leave. “A woman brought us here after seeing the pathetic state you were in.” 

The thief grunted. He ripped out his IV a moment later, disregarding the trickle of blood that began to flow from it. “Can we trust her?” 

“I don’t. She tried bribing us with sweets. We should leave now.” 

Jay glanced at Cain. She had kept her lollipop and had since stolen seven more which she was steadily eating through. “Cassandra’s fine.” 

“Yes, well it seems that food is her weakness.” Jay, it seemed, was incredibly oblivious to the idea of sabotage. What a cretin. 

“Or maybe it’s just a normal lollipop and you’re being paranoid Demon.” 

He was not paranoid! Damian was perfectly rational, thank you very much. Part of Damian wanted Jay to pass out again so he could just leave Jay here. If he trusted Sannah so much, he could stay with her!

“Alright fine, stop glaring at me,” Jay surrendered. “We can leave. We pick up some supplies and I’ll make a call before we head over to the safe-house, capiche?” 

Annoyance surged through Damian. Jay had done nothing, yet he was perfectly well enough to order them around. “Why are _you_ making the decisions here?”

The boy had the audacity to snort. “Maybe because Talia _appointed_ me?”

“Well you’ve done nothing to earn it! I am the grandson of the Demon’s Head and the heir to the League of Assassins. I have given up so much to come with _you_ , _a nobody_ , only to drag you around while you untruthfully claim to be qualified to be a leader. You have done nothing but slow us down, _thief_.” 

“ _Would you like to repeat that for me_ ?” Jay spat. His eyes were tinted green the way Grandfather’s were when he was angry. Damian didn’t care. _He_ was _right_. 

“You are useless and not fit to lead.” 

“And what makes you better? Your heritage? Because guess what– you lost any power that had when you got onto that plane. You’re just as much of a nobody as I am.” 

“At least I am honourable!” Damian retorted weakly. 

Jay laughed. “Kid, nothing about you or your family is honourable. They’re assassins.” Damian wondered what it would take before Jay lost it.“You want to know why we left? Because Ra’s al Ghul, _your_ grandfather, is using us. He’d have killed us eventually, because we do something he didn’t like or we’re not good enough for him. We’re pawns Damian, both of us, and don’t you forget it.” 

“Maybe you, but not me. Grandfather knows how valuable I am.” 

“Oh yeah? What would he have done if you lost to Cassandra?”

Damian knew. He’d be dead and replaced in a matter of months. “I would not lose.” By stripping his power and rank away, Mother had saved his life. A life he now had to live in exile. 

“ _I would not lose_ ,” Jay mocked a high-pitched voice. Childish. 

“Is mockery what you’ve had to come to Jay? No more fodder?” Damian taunted. 

His eyes flashed. “Oh, I’ve got plenty. Let’s start with why you keep convincing yourself you can win against Cassandra. You can’t. Nobody can unless she lets them. You just can’t accept that someone can be better than you because of your ego the size of Texas.” 

Arrogant? That was knowledge of self-worth. And Cassandra was _not_ better than him. Damian pulled his trump card. “ Well at least I am not hare-brained, unlike you calling for your _‘Alfie_.’” 

The colour drained from Jay’s face. “ _How do you know that name_?” 

“What's it to you?” Damian asked smugly. He’d struck a nerve. 

Jay leaped off his cot, unsheathing his knife. Damian’s was in his own palm just as fast. “ _Tell me_ ,” he growled, “or I’ll get it out of you in other ways.” That barely-level voice, shaking with emotion. That silent march concealing the power behind them. Those crazed, relentless eyes, acid green, Lazarus green. It was all too familiar. 

But this wasn’t Grandfather, Damian reminded himself. This was Jay. He steeled himself before stepping forward, only to be stopped by a hand on his chest. 

Cain. 

Her other hand held Jay back. While both boys watched, stunned, Cain disarmed both of them in the blink of an eye. _Stop._

“This is not your business Cain! Go back to eating your insipid candies!” 

Cain either ignored him or simply didn’t understand his words. The latter was more likely. The girl took one look at both he and Jay before grabbing a fistful of their clothes and dragging them to the street. 

“Unhand me at once Cain!” 

With Damian feeling fully violated, Cain let them go.

Jay dusted himself off. “What in the fresh _hell_ Cassandra? 

The girl had the nerve to smile (still with a lollipop in her mouth, mind you). She motioned to them before scurrying to the nearest rooftop and disappearing. _Follow._

Humiliated and not wanting to face another of Cain’s reprimands, Damian did as he was told. Much to his annoyance, Jay had no trouble closing the gap between him and Cassandra, despite Cassandra’s very obvious head start. That left Damian in the dust while Jay vaulted from rooftop to rooftop with practiced ease. What a showoff. 

While Mother had picked an adequate location in terms of inconspicuousness for the safe-house, it wasn’t exactly what one might call pleasant. The area was drenched with the stench of pollution and garbage. Jay looked at home. This was probably where he belonged anyway. 

Across the street, the echoes of a woman’s scream sounded. From atop the roof, Damian could make out the dim silhouettes of two people, one holding the other at gunpoint. Marvellous. Not only did the place smell like a latrine, the citizens acted like they lived inside one too. 

Cain flattened herself to the roof, waiting and watching to see what would happen. Damian and Jay followed suit, although Jay did so hesitatingly. He looked ready to throw himself off the roof and into the fray. Imbecile. 

Before Jay could attempt anything idiotic though, an arrow came flying from the opposite rooftop, finding its home in the wall next to the mugger. Fear dawned on the man’s face. 

A blonde girl jumped down from the shadows. “ You gonna leave the lady alone or what?” she yelled brashly. 

The man turned tail and fled. 

Jay’s breath hitched. It was a pitiful sound to hear in the newly born silence. “I know her,” he whispered.

“Nobody cares, thief,” Damian bit out. “Now hurry up before Cain leaves us behind on this roof.” 


	3. The Disappointing Realities of a Payphone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may be late but um... it's finally here. Tell me what you think!  
> Shoutout to Jdrawsdoodles on instagram https://www.instagram.com/p/CGVWzEUFbo1/ for making some amazing art for this chapter!

Oftentimes, the events that changed Cassandra’s life happened in a matter of milliseconds. Violence was measured in heartbeats. This was different. This was longer. 

This was not a fight, it dragged on over the course of a day– then two days then three and counting. What was this? This didn’t tell her to fight and train and kill for hours of the day. This didn’t care about the Rules. Jay and Damian didn’t care about the rules. Did they know the Rules? Did they know that broken Rules came with Him wielding hurt as a weapon in itself? And even though He wasn’t here, the Rules still echoed through her. 

Train. Train until bones break. Train until hurt surges through you. Train until you scream rest. And then continue. 

People. Useless other than to fight. They will hurt you if you do not hurt first. They will not help. You are not them. 

But– Jay and Damian were people. They did not hurt. _He_ hurt. They helped. They helped her get away from Him. So Cassandra would help them. 

They shared. They gave themselves just as much as they gave her. They shared a roof, they shared food, they shared weapons. Cassandra would help.

That was how Cassandra ended up at the front of a building with Damian. Keep him safe. That was her job. But the building–it was full of people. People hurt. Safe did not mean hurt. She held Damian back.

“Cain, stop this at once. The sooner we get this abysmal task done, the sooner we may leave.”

But– people. They came and left the building, coming empty-handed and leaving with rustling bags. 

“Cain.”

Cassandra took another look at the people. They were not going to fight, she realized. They were bored, hurried, tired. Why? 

She followed Damian into the store, being sure not to let him wander too far away. 

The store was different than anything she'd ever seen– it wasn’t the giant market places she’d sometimes seen with Him. This was smaller, sterile, emotionless. But it wouldn’t do to be fascinated with something so... mun-dane (That was a Damian word. She liked it. Part of her wanted words to roll off her tongue too. But words didn’t belong to her.) They had to fit in. The people were disorienting. They marched everywhere–like ants in the sand, each with their own job. She and Damian were ants too. Get food and clothes. 

Damian decided to lead her to the clothes first. “Pick what you like, Cain. Remember, we must blend in.”

Cassandra let herself float around the aisles, hands drifting out to feel the soft fabrics. She picked out dark colours– dark colours blended in easier, made it easier to hide. They were comfortable. They would do. She pulled a purple hoodie over her own shirt and stuffed the rest of her findings in her bag. She was about to collect the rest of the things Damian had found when something caught her eye. 

It was a band of sparkling silver. The picture next to it showed a young girl wearing it on her head. It looked… pretty. He would never let her. It wasn’t needed and it would draw attention. But… he wasn’t here. 

Cautiously, Cass took the band in her hands and slipped it onto her head. She smiled. 

When Damian finished getting his own clothes, Cass waited for some comment about the band. There was none– but his eyes flickered to it before telling her they should get food. 

Cass knew exactly what she wanted. Lol-li-pops. The nice doctor had given her and Damian some. Cassandra liked them. He would have never let Cassandra eat such things– nor would he let her eat so many. Back then, food was to be used, not enjoyed. It was never guaranteed. But here…. Here was different. Here, food could be something else. 

The aisle was filled with colours. There were so many things. How would they choose which one to get? The colours jumped out at her, each bag screaming ‘look at me!’ It was deafening without words. 

Damian picked up a bag and inspected it before tearing it open. Cassandra watched as he experimentally put an orange… thing in his mouth. It crunched. He offers Casandra the bag. 

The snack felt like the hard flatbread that was sometimes served at… back there. Cassandra dug another one out of the bag. Except, these were different on her tongue. Tasted differently. They left a reminder of orange dust on her fingers.that she wiped off on her sleeve. 

Another food caught her attention. They were small, colourful and had a.. grinning… bear drawn on the bag. Cassandra ripped it open. They were chewy… fruity, like the lollipops. She decided she liked them. 

Cassandra was just about to try another snack when a man yelled from the top of the aisle. “Hey! You can’t do that!”

He marched towards them, mad, mad, mad. But also tired. “You have to pay for those you little brats. Where are your parents?” 

It might’ve been the wrong thing to do, but Cassandra slipped another chewy bear in her mouth, the man turned redder. 

Damian growled and unsheathed his sword lightning-fast. He had hidden it well. The man's eyes bugged out of his head, buglike. Antlike. Cassandra suppressed a giggle. 

“Do you know who I am?’ Damian bellowed. “I will do what I like. I should kill you for this offence but–”

Damian didn’t get to finish before the man collapsed on the floor. Shock. Cassandra grinned at Damian. He sheathed his sword sourly. Dragging him to the shelf, she began to load bags of snacks into his empty arms. 

Damian’s eyes lit up when he realized what she was doing.

“Jay will be so mad,” he chuckled. 

After helping each other decide what to get, the pair headed towards the exit, each caring as many bags as they could possibly hold. They rustled against each other, all so colourful. Cassandra felt a grin growing on her face. 

"Hey, kids– Hey you need to pay for that!” 

Cassandra didn't know why, but she felt a laugh bubbling up in her chest. She began to run. 

The man yelled louder. “Get back here or I’ll call the cops!” 

Damian threw a bag at the man which hit him squarely in the face. Bullseye. Damian smirked. Cassandra grabbed Damian’s arm and whisked him away from the scene. 

They came to their senses several blocks away and panting from the run. 

“That was an acceptable outing, Cain,” Damian tutted, though Cassandra didn’t miss the way he hid the upward turn of his lips. “I think we have certainly gathered all the necessary items Jay requested.” 

She hummed and tore open a new bag of snacks. 

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Jay crashed onto his bed, dead tired. The past week had been a blur of trying to keep both him, Damian and Casandra alive–which was proving to be harder than he’d thought. The two assassins, although most likely adept at blending into the shadows, were clearly not adept at blending in socially. Like a fool, he had sent them on a mission to get some groceries four days ago. They had come back with armfuls of junk food (courtesy of Cassandra) and a ban from the store. Jay didn’t even want to think about what insults (and weapons) Damian might have threatened the cashiers with. 

So he was stuck doing most of the chores. _Great_ . The first order of business was actually finding them regular civilian clothes. While Halloween _was_ approaching, they couldn’t exactly bank on that excuse while they ran around looking like tiny assassins. He would also need to make sure the police and the neighbours didn’t notice anything weird about three minors living alone. He had a lot of work to do. 

On the plus side, the mindless work gave him time to think. Why did he know all of this stuff? When it came to his life before the League, Jay usually was clueless. However, there were several things Jay knew for certain. One: thanks to the man guarding the ship that Jay departed from the League in, there was an increasing possibility that the visions he had were real. Jay didn’t know how he felt about that. Two: He was close to a man by the name of Alfie. Damian, for once, had been helpful with that particular piece of information. And three: 

Last week when Cassandra had led them to the safehouse via rooftop parkour, Jay not only knew exactly where he was going, but that precarious mode of transportation felt natural to him. He must’ve not been your average kid, then. And a resident of Happy Harbour. 

It wasn’t much, but hey, it was better than living in complete darkness. Of course, with every semi-answer he got, the unanswered questions only multiplied. 

“Jay.” Damian’s voice threw him from his thoughts. “Why are you staring at the ceiling like a useless idiot?” 

“Leave me alone, Demon.” 

Damian huffed. “I would, except we have an issue.”

“Which is?”

“Cain’s missing.” 

“Are you sure?” he asked dully. “Because she’s really good at hiding if you haven’t noticed.”

“Of course I’m sure, you _twit_. The food that I put out for her has not been touched. We must find her, seeing as she is the only other competent member of this group.” 

Jay laughed, which only seemed to annoy the brat even more. “First of all, Cassandra’s not a cat, Damian. Second, I didn’t know you were so impressed by her dragging you across Happy Harbour.” 

The boy tutted. “While her methods are… not the most desirable, she is effective. Unlike you.” 

Before Jay could even protest the statement, Damian placed a map of the city in front of him. What was the little demon doing now? 

“We must be methodical in our search in order to find Cain as soon as possible. Do you know of any places she might have gone?” 

“I don’t know, maybe she got tired of you and just went for a walk.”

“She would not do that. Everything Cain does is purposeful. She has gone to do something.”

“Damian, you’ve literally known her a week,” Jay deadpanned. “She’ll come back.”

“Yes, but what if she’s in trouble? She may need backup.”

Jay scoffed. Cassandra didn’t need backup– backup needed Cassandra. ”Damian, I’d never thought I’d see the day when you cared about someone, but here it is.” 

Damian reddened. “This is not about caring, thief. Cain is simply our best defence against any League assassins that may come after us. It's business.”

“Uh-huh. You seen any coming, brat?” 

“I have been bettering security and patrolling the area if they do. So far there have been no attempts,” Damian stated proudly. 

"Yeah, okay, cool. So if you’re done, could you close the door on your way out? I’ve got some stuff I need to work through.” 

“You will not dismiss me!” Damian squawked. “We should have just left you at that clinic.” 

Jay ignored him. “Why don’t you check the clinic. Maybe Cassandra’s gone to steal more lollipops from that doctor,” he suggested falling back onto the bed. 

“That’s… actually not a bad idea,” Damian mused. “Come, perhaps you will prove to be useful for once in your miserable life.” 

Damian yanked Jay off the bed and he groaned, immediately regretting all of his life decisions.

Cass did in fact turn out to be at the clinic, sitting in a spare room with the doctor that had allegedly saved Jay a week prior. Upon seeing them, Cass waved. Jay waved back. Damian hovered hesitatingly by the door. 

The doc was the first one to break the silence. “Hi, I’m Sannah,” She smiled. “I don’t think we’ve had the opportunity to speak yet.”

“Uh no, I guess we haven’t. Thanks for uh, you know, by the way.” Jay responded _very_ smoothly. Sannah reminded him of someone, someone he couldn’t exactly remember. “So, what are you guys doing here?”

“Well Cass and I meet up every day here. I’m trying my best to teach her ASL,” Sannah said, signing as she spoke. She and Cassandra were on a nickname-level basis. How much had Jay missed? 

“Cool. Just tell one of us next time, okay Cass?” He used the nickname mostly for show. He didn’t want to seem like he knew Cassandra less than the doc (although he probably did). “You got Damian worried.” 

“I was not worried!” Damian shouted from the doorway. 

Cassandra snickered. Jay could see Damian’s future lecture to Cass ending with the realization that Cass does what Cass wants. 

“You boys are welcome to stay with us if you like,” Sannah invited. “We’ve got snacks in the back if you’re hungry.” 

“I shall wait outside to ensure Cain’s safe arrival home.” 

“Okay, cool. I gotta do some errands so you guys have fun.” 

“Alright. Remember you two are welcome here anytime you like.” 

With Cass accounted for and Damian off his case, Jay felt like he could finally breathe. Two less problems he had to worry about for the moment. 

He checked his pockets for spare change (Talia had been sure to give them all a sort of monetary fund) before heading to the nearest internet cafe. He had recognized the vigilante they had seen a while ago. This lead he could actually research and maybe it would help him remember something. He ordered a tea (“Earl grey, two sugars please.”) and began his search. What started as “Happy harbour vigilantes” slowly began to expand as he found next to nothing on the archer he had spotted. He decided to have a look at the known vigilantes in the area in hopes that one might jump out at him. 

One did. Or two did, rather. Nightwing and Robin. Neither heroes were Happy Harbour regulars, but were spotted at least once a month. They both hailed from Gotham and after more digging, Jay found that they were known to work in tandem on occasion. 

Maybe Jay could talk to them. They might be able to help him with his current predicament. 

He knew that he hadn’t just been some fanboy. The visions, or newly-realized term of memories ensured that. Though often vague, he did remember conversations that were directed at the two personas. 

_“Robin, where are you going? You’re on patrol tonight!”_

_"Nah, Nightwing can handle it. Let him stay with us a bit longer. We have to beat this game before him anyway.”_

He shook the voices out of his head. They might be evidences of his past, but right now, those were distractions. Right now he needed to figure out a way for these vigilantes to take him seriously. If he were to walk up to them and claim that he might’ve known them (but wasn’t exactly sure) there was no way they would have a helpful conversation with him. 

Maybe he could do a demonstration of his skills. After all, not just any kid could parkour across rooftops confidently– nor could any kid hold their own against armed opponents twice their size. Those were things he knew from the before. He didn’t remember learning or practicing those skills, but his body did. That could be proof enough, if he was willing to risk his history with the League leaking out. Jay didn’t think they’d take too kindly to that. 

But he was getting ahead of himself. How would he get their attention in the first place? Fighting crime had to be a busy job, one that wouldn’t leave adequate time to have a little chat with a not-civilian like him. 

Jay scrolled through news’ sites idly as he thought, barely registering the headlines. Suddenly, one caught his attention, giving him an idea. He’d admit, it was a tad overdramatic and made him feel like a kid who called the cops for fun, but what was a reunion without a little showmanship? 

As Jay walked home, he found himself heading towards Sannah’s clinic. He didn’t entirely know why– Cass and Damian were probably already back at the safe house by now, but inexplicably, he found himself going. He was tired, so, _so_ tired of having the responsibility of keeping Cass and Damian alive thrust upon him. All while not even being able to remember who he was. For once, he didn’t want to be under that kind of pressure. 

He had no idea what he was doing. Or exactly what he was looking to find with Sannah. But he had to get that crushing weight off his chest, somehow. Talking helped didn’t it? 

“Hi there,” the woman at the front desk piped up. “We close in ten minutes, but I can help you make an appointment or direct you somewhere else if you need it.” 

Jay mentally ran through what day of the week it was. Sunday. Right. “Uh, actually I’m here to talk to a friend. Doctor…” He paused, realizing that he didn’t know Sannah’s last name. Well, that certainly didn’t reinforce the image of them being friends, now did it? “Sannah,” he finally supplied.

The front-desk-lady smiled, shaking her head. "Sannah and her damn street kids, I swear,” she muttered exasperatedly to herself. “Alright, wait here please. She’s currently with another patient right now so I’ll let her know you’re here when she's finished.” 

Before he knew it, Jay was seated across from the doctor herself in the back room. Why was his head pounding? He forced himself to stop fidgeting with his hands.

“So,” Jay began, attempting conversation.”The front-desk-lady mentioned your brood of street kids. What’s that about?”

Sannah leaned back in her chair, chuckling. “On my off time, I treat the street kids for free, when they need it, no questions asked. She probably thought you were one of them.”

“Huh.” That explained so many things about their first encounter. 

“How are you doing, by the way? That was some fever you survived the other night.” 

“I’m good, I guess. It went as quickly as it came.” 

Sannah nodded. “Now what did you want to talk to me about? I’m guessing it wasn't about my co-workers.” 

Jay took a deep breath. Cass trusted Sannah, right? Gaining Cass’s trust was as good a test as any. “You know when you do something, like writing or walking, but don’t know how you learned it?” 

“Yes, like muscle memory.” 

“My entire life feels like that,” he said quickly, the words tumbling out of his mouth carelessly. Wait, that didn’t make sense, elaborate, Jay! “I can’t remember my life before a year ago.” 

The silence between his last word and Sannah’s next one was brimming with his anxiety. He’d never told anyone about his amnesia.

“I’m so very sorry to hear that,” she sympathized. “Can you remember anything, or is it all just blank?”

“There’s bits and pieces that come back, sometimes. But it makes no _sense_. And I promised someone that I’d take care of Cass and Damian, but how am I supposed to do that when– _when_ _I can’t_ remember?” Jay rambled, peeling his gaze off the floor. “ _I can’t even remember my own name_.” 

The room exploded into silence once more. 

“I’m not a professional, but I think that you just have to give it time. It stands to reason that since you’re slowly remembering new things, the rest of your memories will return in time,” Sannah said softly.“Your friends called you Jay, right?”

He nodded. “I know my real name started with a ‘ _j’_. Or something like that.”

“Can your friends help you at all with this?”

“They don’t know.” Jay paused. Maybe Talia had told Damian back in the League? And Cass’s ability to read people was nothing to be underestimated either. “I’ve never told them at least. And if they– if they realize that I have no idea what I’m doing, they’ll–they’ll–”

“Hey, look at me. You’re doing a fantastic job with Damian and Cass so far, I can see it. And I’m always here if you ever need help, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“The best thing to do in your situation is to find a professional, but I know that may not be possible. What we can do at the moment though is try and sift through whatever you do remember. Maybe we can find some old friends who may be able to help trigger more memories.”

The moments of waking up in the clinic come rushing back to him. The phone number– one he was sure that was drilled into his head by an overprotective parent. He should start there. Jay had wanted to call it the very moment it had popped into his head (which weren't very great circumstances in itself) but he hadn’t quite worked up the courage to do so yet. 

“What should I do if I remember someone or an address or something?” 

“Look into it,” Sannah suggested. “But be careful. Running around talking to strangers isn’t exactly the safest pastime.” 

Jay scoffed. “Who do you think I am, Doctor I-don’t-even-know-your-last-name.” 

“Touche,” she chuckled. “It’s Patel, for the record. But I’m serious Jay.” 

“I know. Thanks for your help, by the way. I think I have an idea.” With that, Jay scrambled out the door before he could lose his nerve. He was going to do it. 

The next few moments were utter mayhem as Jay searched for the nearest payphone. What would he say, he thought wildly. What would they say? Would they recognize him? There was only one way to find out. 

Jay slotted a dollar into the ancient machine and dialed. 

The line took forever to connect. Jay mentally ran through what he might say. _Hi, I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Jay. That’s not my real name because I have amnesia and I’ve forgotten, but–_ They picked up. 

“Hello?” A man with a very posh London accent. 

The words fizzled out of Jay’s mouth. _That voice_. That voice was in his visions, right beside the man from the docks. Only, this voice had an inexplicable aura of _home_ around it, a home that had been ripped violently away from him. 

Upon hearing no reply from Jay, the man spoke again, this time more coldly. “This is Wayne Manor’s private line. How did you acquire this number?” 

Jay _wanted_ to speak. Do you remember me? How do I know you? But the words didn’t come. Frustration built in his chest. He was _this_ close to finding answers about his past and he couldn’t even talk. 

“Well if it amuses you to idly call on busy people, there are plenty of other numbers for you to dial. Good day.” The man hung up. 

Jay stared at the now-silent phone dumbly, his vision watery. He wiped his face. 

The man probably wouldn’t pick up again if Jay called a second time. Even if he did, could Jay guarantee that the results would be any different? Wayne Manor sounded like an important place, after all. And he’d just blown his shot at finding out how he knew such a place. 

He slid to the floor, cradling his head between his knees. The more he thought about the man’s voice the more he felt like he should have known him. Like he should be with him. Like he should be home. His head felt like it was bursting at the seams. 

By the time Jay picked himself off the street to begin the trudge home, it was already dusk. He didn’t know how long he had spent moping by the payphone, nursing his figurative wounds, but it was definitely longer than he’d wanted to admit. 

His day didn’t improve in any way when he got to the safehouse. In fact, he was tackled to the ground by a dark shadow. A very small, dark shadow, who happened to be holding a blade to Jay’s throat. 

Jay definitely did not have the emotional capacity for this. “ _Get off_ Demon. It’s me.” 

Begrudgingly, the shadow obeyed.“That doesn’t exactly help your case,” Damian grumbled. Only then did Jay notice the dark circles under his eyes.

“Woah, Demon, ever heard of a thing called sleep?”

“Where were you?” So he was going to ignore Jay. Rude. 

“Out. Now tell me why you were waiting in the hall with a sword for me to come home, huh?”

Damian sheathed his sword. “ _Somebody_ needs to stand guard in case a League assassin gets in, thief.” 

“We have a security system for a reason,” Jay scoffed. “You should sleep when you can.” 

“Since when do you care? I am trained, and I should put those skills to use.” 

That was hardly a good excuse. Damian’s skills consisted of fighting techniques and skills needed to run the League. _Wait_. Damian’s whole future was with the League, before. Now, he was subjected to an uncertain and unimportant future. He must be restless. Jay knew he would be in his shoes. 

It wasn’t like Damian would listen if Jay told him to stop obsessing over security. But he could give the little brat something to do. “There’s something you and Cass should know, by the way,” he began. “Where is she?”

“Resting. What is the news?”

Jay debated waiting to tell them both at once. Officially, at least. But Damian was here and waiting, so better to tell him now. He _needed_ to in order for his plan to work, but it was still embarrassing. 

“I need to talk to some vigilantes.”

“Why? That sounds like an utter waste of time.”

“Because I can’t remember anything from before a year ago. And I think they might be able to help.”

“So you have–” a brief look of realization crossed Damian’s face. “Oh.” 

“I need your help, Damian. Cass’ too.” _Please, Damian. I need this._

“Why should we help you?” 

“Maybe because if they tell me something useful and I can find a relative or something, you can have someone more competent than me in charge,” Jay said, throwing Damian’s favorite point about competency in for the hell of it. “Maybe because with better connections, we have a better _future_.” 

Damian frowned. “This could prove to be a fruitful endeavor,” he murmured. Was the ten-year-old really all-business, or was he looking for an excuse to see these heroes up close and personal?

"Thank you,” Jay breathed. “Okay, so this is the plan…”


	4. Richard Grayson and Timothy Drake Freak Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thank you to Jdraws doodles on Instagram for the lovely art! https://www.instagram.com/p/CGVWxzQFWEM/

“Alright Robin, you’re clear.” M'gann’s voice rang through Tim’s mind. “You and Nightwing take the west side. Report back to the Mountain in an hour.” 

“Stop worrying Miss M, me and Robin have done this a million times.” Nightwing was right. At this point in their career, patrol, especially a patrol out of Gotham, was pretty insignificant. 

“Just be careful, okay?” The Martian paused. “Once you’re out, you won’t be able to use the mind-link.”

“M’gann, we’re fine. Seriously,” Tim projected. A moment later, his mind went quiet when M’gann cut the link. Finally. Now he could complain in peace. 

It wasn’t often that Tim got to patrol in Happy Harbour and he was glad for it. The nights were unbearably slow– at least compared to good ol’ Gotham. Whoever thought it was a good idea to expand patrol routes to include Happy Harbour was an idiot. 

Which probably meant that Dick was an idiot. 

After swinging around the city for who knows how long and finding nothing, Tim considered heading back towards his and Nightwing’s rendevous point. He was just about to follow through with the idea when he saw a figure standing on top of the bank. 

The figure turned out to be a girl. She didn’t look very imposing with her short stature and young face but Tim knew for a fact that there was no way to access the roof of this particular building without bypassing extremely high security or some serious parkour skills. She definitely wasn’t your average civilian. Something was up. 

Tim landed on the roof in a swift motion, his cape falling behind him with a soft whoosh. “Hey, whatcha doin’ up here?” 

The girl approached silently. Her mere step told Tim she was trained. She was a possible threat. That image was thwarted when she gave Tim a shy wave. Now less than an arm’s length away, Tim noticed she looked familiar. _Very familiar_. 

“Uh, do I know you?” 

She shrugged. The girl’s hand shot out a moment later and Tim’s world tilted sideways. 

  
  


The ground was cold when Tim awoke. The slab of metal that he was propped up on was certainly no five-star experience either. The wind from the rooftops was gone– now replaced by the echoing sound of creaking metal. The crisp air was also gone, in its place the stale smell of an abandoned dwelling. Definitely not where he passed out. 

He cracked his eyes open, confirming his conclusion. Kidnapped. He’d been so dumb. So, _so dumb_. But what else was new?

His hands and feet were tied for one. Gloves, boots, and belt were gone too. They even took his concealed lockpick and batarang. Dammit, his homing tracker was gone too. Whoever took him was good. 

A small shuffle came from behind him. It was futile to pretend he was still unconscious and Tim was itching to know who had taken him and why. He craned his neck to see who it was with no avail. Well, best to get to the bottom of the problem anyway. 

“Who are you and what do you want?”

“I am not the one you should be asking, hero.” Despite the voice’s complex vocabulary, it was impossible to deny the fact that it was a child’s voice. A very _young_ child’s voice. That was fifty shades of messed up. Who enlisted _kids_ to _kidnap_ him? “Don’t worry though. The thief did say he only wanted to talk.” 

_The Thief_. Tim didn’t think he’d ever heard that moniker before. “Where is he?”

"Waiting on a guest. They won’t be long,” the kid said casually as if he were talking about the weather. 

The next few minutes passed in silence. As it turned out, the kid wasn’t very chatty. Tim didn’t mind– he was focused on discreetly trying to free himself of his bonds. Hopefully, before the Thief arrived. 

Tim heard a soft _umph_ beside him as another body crashed to the floor. “ _Nightwing_?” No response. He was out cold. 

Uneasiness began to unravel itself in Tim’s gut. The Thief had purposefully sought out Robin and Nightwing, and had clearly cut no corners while doing it. What did he want? Tim had heard the stories of what had happened to his predecessor. Was this a gruesome show of two more Robins dying horribly? Was this–

“You two– stand guard. Give me and our guests some space,” a new, distorted voice ordered. _The Thief was here._

He was clad in a red uniform, a grey mask slid over his face. The hood that was pulled up over his head only half-hid the lock of white hair that stood out from the rest of his black hair. His walk, while certainly not a soldier’s march, suggested that he had likely been trained. What made no sense though was the way he carried himself– hunched into himself and trying to appear as small as possible. 

Tim forced himself to steady his breathing as their captor approached. He skirted the edges of Tim’s vision, inspecting both of them. The Thief paused before leaning over Nightwing’s unconscious body. Tim held his breath. What was he going to do?

His fingers hovered over Nightwing’s face. The pounding in Tim’s head grew louder. _No no no no no no_. The thief carefully peeled Nightwing’s mask off. Tim’s blood ran cold. Would he recognize Dick? What would he do with their identities? 

The Thief stared at Dick’s now-exposed face for an agonizing thirty seconds. “You,” he whispered, sitting back on his haunches. He pocketed the mask and dutifully moved towards Tim. 

“Leave me alone, you freak!” 

The Thief froze. “That’s not right,” he murmured to himself. 

Up close, Tim had the pleasure of examining the Thief’s mask. Those red lenses burned their way into Tim’s mind immediately. He didn’t want to see them. He wanted to shut his eyes and pretend it was all a very unpleasant dream. Three fingers brushed the side of his face. Oh God, he was going to take off Tim’s mask too. 

There was a sharp pain as the adhesive tugged at the skin on Tim’s face. In one swift motion, the Thief pulled the mask off with a ruthless finality. 

Despite the twisting in his gut, Tim forced himself to meet the Thief’s unwavering gaze. If nothing else, Tim would at least keep his dignity. 

Dick let out a groan. The thief snapped to attention.

“What are you doing?” Tim didn’t think he’d ever heard Dick’s voice so vicious. “What do you want and why did you follow us?”

 _Follow us_? Tim took another look at the Thief. Those were League robes. _Oh hell_. Things just got a lot worse. 

The Thief stood to his full height. “I want answers. And I will be getting them,” he replied, his voice garbled just enough to make it eerie. 

Tim shivered. He could still feel the Thief’s fingers, calloused and corpse-like in temperature, feel his scrutinizing gaze boring through him. See him standing over Dick with that twisted fascination. 

“You won’t be getting anything,” Dick spat.

“I was hoping you’d recognize me. I guess I'd better level the playing field.” He reached up to his own mask and removed it with a sharp hiss. 

All the air seemed to be sucked out of the room. 

Dick paled. “No... it can't be…” 

The Thief was younger than Tim expected him to be. He might’ve been an average civilian if not for the jagged scar that ran through the right side of his face. Or his eyes, those haunted acid eyes that Tim didn’t like any better than the creepy mask. 

But that face–that face unnerved him. It was reminiscent of the sad covered portraits that haunted the Manor’s lonely back halls. The face that stared at him now, though older and hardened looked like– It could have been–

“Jason”, Tim breathed. 

The Thief’s stiff posture melted at the name. “Yeah.” 

“How?” Dick’s tone was suspended in disbelief. “We… we _buried_ you.” 

Now it was Not-Jason’s turn to turn white. “I… died…” He looked up. “For real, didn’t I?” Jason’s voice was quiet as he came to the realization. 

The colours Tim wore suddenly felt ten tons heavier. They were never his colours though. Would… would Jason want them back? He swallowed the sentiment. He could worry about that later. “But,” Tim butted in in an attempt to lighten the mood. “You’re here now. Bruce will be so happy to see you.” 

“Who’s Bruce?”

––––––––-––––

Dick’s mind was racing. Sitting in front of him was the kid he’d fought at Infinity Island. Sitting in front of him was someone who looked very much like Jason Todd. Sitting in front of him was someone who was supposed to be dead.

He so wanted it to be true. It wasn’t unheard of in their line of work to cheat death but he couldn’t give himself false hope. He didn’t think he could handle it if this miracle (this second chance) turned out to be a curse. 

There was another rising problem. Jason had admitted abashedly to not remembering his life prior to a year ago. To make things worse, Jason had tried to remedy the previous problem by kidnapping him and Tim. He’d done a good job of it too– Dick would be impressed if the threat of the Team coming down, guns blazing, wasn’t hanging over their heads. 

Maybe if they could present some proof of Jason’s identity to the Team, they could quell any clashes. “Jason, is there anything you _do_ remember?” Dick asked carefully. He didn’t want to upset him–seeing as Jason clearly had the upper hand. 

Jason sat down cross-legged in front of them, exhaling. “I… I’m not sure how much was real… But… I remember there was a big house. It was always cold at night, I think. Your voice… didn’t want me there.” 

The memory hit Dick in the chest ferociously. He remembered those nights, regretted them ever since the news of Jason’s death arrived. He had yelled at Bruce whenever he came to visit whilst avoiding Jason as much as physically possible. After all, this was the kid Bruce deemed good enough to give _Robin_ , _his title_ , away to. This was the kid that Dick had taken that hurt out on. This was the kid he’d let down. 

“There was… laughing,” he said hesitatingly. “And there was red– _red everywhere_ and someone was supposed to come _but they didn’t and_ – _and_ –” Jason stopped, suddenly gasping for breath. “Who was supposed to come? _Why didn’t they come_?” 

“Hey, Jason, look at me.” Talking about those morbid details couldn’t have been easy, Dick knew. Especially when all the clues led him to believe it was Jason’s… Jason’s death. 

Jason’s head snapped upwards, nostrils flaring. 

“Are you okay?”

“ _Why can’t I remember_?” he grit out. He turned his attention to Tim, who shrank under his gaze. Jason probably now viewed Dick’s answers as useless. “Who was it?” 

“Bruce.” Tim’s answer disclosed none of his timidness. “He got there seconds too late.” 

Jason’s eyes flashed.“ _Why_?”

Dick piped in. “He was looking for you, Jay. He–”

“I wasn’t asking you,” Jason hissed. “I was asking _Robin_. Now _tell me_ before I lose my patience.” 

“Jay, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes I’m sure!” Jason shouted. His fingers twitched at his side and were his eyes… glowing? 

“Jason–”

“ _Shut up will you_?” he interrupted heatedly, driving his fist into a nearby crate. The metal gave way, leaving a sizable dent in its side. 

“Holy–” 

Dick agreed. That was definitely not normal, not with that calibre of metal. At the moment though, Dick was just glad Jason's fist had slammed into the crate and not Tim’s head. The air hummed with apprehensive silence.

As if waking up, Jason shook his head, staring at the damage, then at his knuckles. He was breathing hard. A string of curses erupted from his mouth when he belatedly noted the aftermath. 

Dick didn’t even want to ask what happened. Not of fear of repeating what just happened (with risk of worse results) but of fear of seeing his brother in such a state. Jason wasn’t a meta, was he? “Jay, listen. We can help.” He sucked in a breath, mentally preparing for the worst.“If you let us radio the team, we’ve got a psychic that might help you remember things.” 

Jason seemed to consider Dick’s words for a moment. “I can’t… Nightwing.” He swallowed. “I have responsibilities that I can’t compromise.” His words were still– words quickly constructed as if he were caught in the headlights. As if he were the one tied up instead of Dick and Robin. 

“Will you stay in touch?” 

Jason had no time to grind out a response before two dark figures dropped silently to the floor. Dick was about to open his mouth to warn him when he noticed one small detail about them–they were kids. 

Fortunately, Tim beat him to it. “Uh, Jason? I think you’ve got some visitors.”

He turned around only to groan tiredly into his palm. “I told you to keep watch outside. What are you doing here?” 

The youngest– a boy of about ten– answered. “ I– we came to the conclusion that while you may need time to gather information from our… prisoners, you will benefit from our presence as mediators.” The girl nudged him. He sighed. “And perhaps, I was curious about these personas myself.” 

Dick side-eyed Tim, who gave him an equally amused gaze. Who was this kid? “You're going to introduce us, Jay?”

“Your responsibilities, I would assume?” Tim asked at the same time. 

The kid puffed out his chest. “We are all capable of fending for ourselves, Robin.” 

“Quiet.” Jason flicked the kid’s ear. It was so worlds away from the same command he had given to Dick minutes earlier. This was softer, all the malice gone. “This is Damian, my personal pain in the–” he took another look at the kid before finishing –” butt.” 

While he was talking, the girl quietly walked towards them. The same girl who’d taken him down effortlessly before he wound up here, he concluded. She dug a hand into her pockets and slipped a … lollipop into his and Tim’s bound hands. 

“Uh… thanks?”

She smiled and trotted off. 

“Cass, what are you– Oh my God,” Jason muttered exasperatedly. “You can’t just give everyone candy.” 

Damian huffed. “You _are_ dense. Learn to spot an apology when you see one.” 

Dick’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, thank you, Cass.” 

“Though we might be able to appreciate it more if you untied us,” Tim added. 

Both Damian and Cass looked to Jason for the green light. How he managed to wrestle these assassin-kids into obedience, Dick had no idea. 

“You’ll need to agree to our terms first,” Jason finally said, pressing his lips together. 

“Which are?”

“You never met us. If anyone asks, you had private business with Batman. If we need you in the future, we will contact you.” 

“Dick’s mouth gaped open. “Jason! What… what if we want to contact you?”

“Those were the terms, _Nightwing_ ,” Damian said with finality. That tone– Dick could’ve sworn he’d heard it a million times before.

Because he had. He’d heard it in flippant arguments in the cave, when he was about to make a stupid decision on the field, when he got benched because of a particularly bad sprain. He’d heard it scold him a million times, how could he not recognize it?

Dick looked closer at the kid– who was currently hashing the details of their hostage situation out with Tim. The conversation wasn’t what interested Dick right now though. Damian’s face was scrunched up in that oh-so-familiar way and his features were a spitting image of–

“No way.”

“D- Nightwing, can you have a little respect, I’m trying to get us out of here.” 

He ignored Tim completely. “Damian, do you know who your parents are?” 

“I do not see how this is relevant to the conversation.”

“Humour me.”

”–But know that I am the heir to the Demon’s head and the son of the bat!”

Even with his suspicions confirmed, Dick’s mind was frozen. Bruce had a son. With Talia of all people. If nothing else, it was certainly clear that Bruce had a ‘type’. 

“What. The. Hell.” Tim turned to Cass. “Want to expose your parentage now too, I suppose?” 

“Daughter of David Cain,” Jason sighed. 

“I wasn’t serious Jason!” Tim shrieked. 

Jason shrugged. 

“Do not omit her mother either,” Damian added. “ The Daughter of Lady Shiva is no small thing.” 

Dick whistled. “Wow Jay. You sure know how to pick ‘em.”


	5. Oh to Crash a Family Reunion

If there was one thing Artemis hated in the line of hero-ing, it was monitor duty. She’d only just started her three house shift and was already bored out of her mind. Not to mention, with Robin and Nightwing on patrol and the rest of the Team doing who knows what, she didn’t even have anyone to talk to. She’d heard JLA members grouse about it before and now she truly did sympathize with them.

Time ticked by incredibly slowly. But alas, there was nothing for Artemis to do but twiddle her fingers and wait for her shift to be over, praying she didn’t lose her mind. Artemis’ eyes flitted to the time. Dimly, she noted that the bats should have checked in by now. Half an hour ago, to be exact. They were probably fine, she told herself, but pulled up the CCTV feeds anyway. Just to be safe. 

The bats were intentionally annoying to track on camera, even if you knew where to look. But with a little luck, Artemis managed to spot them here and there. Then, (maybe about two hours ago,) they vanished into thin air like they’d never gone out. There had been no sign of them since. That wasn’t particularly unusual, but something didn’t feel right here. 

The second thing to check was their trackers. They were dormant unless the wearer went unconscious or manually activated it themselves. The technology was still fairly new and possibly unreliable, but when Artemis saw those two blinking dots on the screen alarm bells went off in her head. 

Artemis grabbed the speaker to alert the team. “Bats have gone MIA. Requesting backup in the monitor room.” 

Seconds later, Wally and Conner appeared, closely followed by M’gann. 

“Anyone else here?” 

“Gar and Jaime are on their way. Everyone else is off-base,” M’gann reported.

“What’s the issue?” Conner asked. 

“The bats haven’t checked in and it's been an hour. Their trackers have been activated though they look like they’ve since been ditched. I think something happened.” 

“What do you mean they’ve been ditched? Are they okay?” Wally leaned over the back of Artemis’ chair, lingering a tad too close right now. She swatted him away. 

“I say we send out a recon team to investigate.” 

“And by recon team, you mean you,” M’gann amended.

Artemis narrowed her eyes. “Maybe. What does it matter?”

“When do we leave?”

“Woah, Conner, buddy, we don’t have any idea where to even look for them. We’ll have better chances of finding them bats if we do some digging first.”

“Alright, so what do we know?” M’gann asked, organizing ideas. “The bats both disappeared–likely taken by someone an hour ago–”

“They had to be good,” Artemis interrupted, glaring steelily at the floor. “Bats don’t go down easy.” 

Connor grunted. “Any new players in town?”

“Most well-trained mercenaries and League operatives scattered after our mission at Infinity Island. They’re probably laying low,” M’gann speculated.

“Have you seen any suspicious activity around Happy Harbour recently?” Wally asked, waving his hands around. “Anything incriminating?” 

“About a week ago, “ Conner said, “I was on the monitors and there were these… figures leaping from rooftop to rooftop. And wasn’t any of our guys, I’m sure.” 

“Do you still have the footage?”

“We should.” Artemis scrolled through the week’s feed. “Tell me when you see them, Conner.” 

A minute passed. “There. Zoom in.” 

The frame showed three figures mid-leap from one building to the next. They all wore loose-fitting robes, with hoods pulled over their heads and masks obscuring their faces. 

“Isn’t that a League of Assasin’s uniform?” Wally asked, pointing to the figure in red. 

“Crap, yeah, you’re right.”

“I think I saw them, or at least the red guy too,” Artemis chimed in. “He was watching me for a few blocks. “ 

“Do you think they’re our guys?” 

“Don’t know, but they're our best bet.” Wally flexed his fingers as he spoke, probably eager to get on the move. “We need to be prepared, whoever it is.” 

“I say we all go and leave Gar and Jaime with the monitors. Once we’re out I can try pinpointing their heartbeats.” 

M’gann shut her eyes briefly, establishing a mind-link. “I've contacted Gar and Jaime and told them the plan. Suit up and I’ll meet you all back in five.” 

Soon enough, the Team was out of the mountain and on the streets, They had split up into groups of two in hopes of covering more ground. The minutes were punctuated by Wally constantly cracking his knuckles, and if he didn’t stop, Artemis was going to go insane. 

Wally was nervous, and rightfully so. They’d all heard the stories of the last Robin’s fate. Even with that happening over two years ago, the circumstances were all too familiar. Suspended in anxiety that your best friend might not– She didn’t finish that thought. That was a worst-case scenario. 

But it could happen, a tiny voice sang inside her head. 

_‘Shut up_ ,’ she told it. 

Twelve buildings searched and she had found nothing. Wally seemed to be having similar luck. 

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. 

They considered regrouping with the others when M’gann made the choice for them. “Guys,” she projected. “We have a lead. Sending you the coordinates now.” 

They met M’gann and Conner seconds later thanks to a lift from Wally. The place they found was an old storage warehouse– one that looked like it hadn’t been used in a while. Despite that, Conner had said he’d heard five heartbeats in the building. From the mind link, Gar notified them that he'd seen movement from the cameras, though the figures were too blurry to be sure if they were their guys.

“Gar, keep watch of the perimeter. We’re going in.” M’gann said in the mind link, before taking the lead into the building. 

Artemis took the rear, nocking an arrow onto her bow. “Hear anything Conner?”

“I think they're talking. The bats are trying to negotiate their way out. They sound fine. There’s also… A kid in there. Sounds young too.” 

“Alright, so how are we going to get them out?” Wally asked, foot tapping impatiently on the ground. 

“I can shoot a gas arrow down into there,” Artemis offered. “It should knock the assassins out and will give us time to snatch the Bats and the kid.” 

“Won’t that knock them out too?”

Artemis shrugged. “What do you want me to do?” 

The look on Wally’s face was steely. “Do it.” 

Climbing to a good vantage point in the rafters, Artemis finally got a good view of the captors. They were kids, she realized. They were all kids. Dressed in League uniforms and standing over the Bats. It made Artemis sick. Who trained their kids to be assassins? A bit ironic, Artemis thought afterward, considering her own background.

At least the gas wouldn’t do much to the kids except make their throats sore for a while afterwards. 

Choosing a spot roughly in the center of where the assassins were standing, Artemis let the arrow loose. It whistled to the ground and the assassins leapt to attention. The tallest– the one in red yelled something in another language to the others. Masks appeared out of nowhere and were secured in seconds, leaving only the Bats to breathe in the fumes. 

Dangit. 

The youngest snagged a smoke pellet (most likely stolen from the Bats) and threw it to the floor. 

Artemis grit her teeth. _Oh no you don’t_. 

‘Our captors are making an exit. Intercept them at the back entrance.’

‘Do they have the Bats with them?’ M’gann asked. 

‘Yeah. No idea how they're carrying them though.’

‘Me and M’gann can block the other entrances. We’ll trap them in the building to negotiate.’Conner suggested. 

‘Good luck.’

The building shuddered as the two aliens blocked off and brought down parts of the building. The rafters probably weren’t the safest sniping place anymore. And this probably wasn’t the smartest plan either but to hell with it. Artemis just wanted the Bats safe.

––––––––––

If Wally was good at one thing, it was running. Sure, part of it had to do with being bestowed with Sonic the Hedgehog powers, but that was beside the point. He could run, and that’s what his friends were depending on him for. 

He wasn’t sure if he could carry both Nightwing and Robin but he had to intercept the assassins anyway. Anything to slow them down. 

He felt sick to think of the specifics of the situations. Yeah, the Bats had lots of enemies, but an enemy formidable to take them down so easily? And one with contact with the League…. Wally shivered. 

Gaining ground by running up the wall, he planted himself between the escaping assassins and the exit. “Leave the Bats and I’ll let you three go.”

“On our terms.” The one in red spoke, shifting Nightwing to a fireman’s carry. 

Wally couldn’t help but notice how easily he and the other assassin carried his teammates– his friends. He couldn’t help but notice how vulnerable they looked. 

“Name them.”

“This incident never happened and we were never here. You will not speak of us nor will you try to follow us.” His voice came out distorted, scrambled, and Wally didn’t like it. 

“I–” the building shook again, and a crash sounded in the distance. 

Oh right. The others were blocking the entrances. Except that sounded distinctly like a bunch of metal collapsing. If the building was going to come down– they had to get everyone out before that. “And if we don’t like your terms?”

“Then they will pay for your idiocy in blood,” the youngest hissed, waving a sword still too big for him at Wally. 

The warehouse groaned again. Did anyone here know how physics worked? The entire building would come down at this rate. The building wasn’t stable to begin with and now this would most likely bring this crashing down on top of them. 

“We can negotiate in the main area.” At least there would be lots of cover to hide under if the building did decide to bite it. Plus, there would be enough room to stay away from fighting in close quarters. 

“Where the rest of your team is? Do you think we’re stupid?”

Wally put his hands in front of him in a placating gesture. “No. But I think you know that if we all have better chances out there.” 

The quiet one– a girl– shot him a wary look and began to walk towards the area, apparently unhindered by one knocked out Robin slung over her arm. The other two assassins followed suit. 

Wally breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Miss M, they’re negotiating terms. They want us to forget about them and for this thing to blow over.’

‘Okay, see if you can learn anything about them. Me and Conner are on the last exit.’

‘I've got you in my sights Wally, ‘ Artemis says. ‘I can give you a hand if you need backup.’

With a sharp nod, Wally put on a relaxed face. “So,” he began,” Whaddya want with the Bats anyway?” “That is none of your concern,” the youngest said snootily. God. Wally liked kids, he really did– but he never wanted anything more than to deck this one in the face. 

He forced the annoyance down, forcing himself to regain some sense. “Well your trade-off seemed okay, I guess. But you know, kids like you shouldn’t have to live the life you do. We can give you a way out, if you want.” 

“Unnecessary. We do not work for anyone.” 

“Just tell us you agree, take your guys and we’ll be out of here,” the one in red said. “We haven't done any–”

The kid was cut off by a loose ceiling beam crashing metres away from Wally. He could only watch, stunned. 

‘Guys!’ Artemis yelled, loud enough to make Wally’s head hurt. ‘Do you want to kill me?” 

‘Yeah, we have a problem…’ M’gann began. ‘Someone thought it’d be a good idea to store fireworks next to–”

‘Yes, we get it, this place is coming down! Now just help Artemis get out of here. I’ll cover the Bats.’

Of course, now was the perfect time for said Bats to stir. Things were just great, weren’t they? “Okay, we agree to your terms. This place is coming down so give us the Btas and get out of here.” 

Another chunk fell, its screeching cry grating against the air. The assassins let Wally take their captives, watching while he confirmed that they hadn’t done anything to them. As he was checking Nightwing for any concussions, his friend groaned. 

“What’re you doin’ here?”

“Saving you,” Wally shot back. No concussion. 

Nightwing huffed a laugh. “Check Timmy first. Not–” his eyes widened. “Above you,” he whispered hoarsely. 

Wally’s eyes shot to the ceiling. Oh hell. A piece of roofing was all but planning to squash them. Thanking his quick reflexes, he scooped them up and ran. They could make it. But in that moment, he forgot about the assassins. The assassin _kids_. 

There was no time left. The ceiling came crashing down. Something in the pit of Wally’s stomach dropped. 

_"Jay_!” Nightwing screamed. He scrambled out of Wally’s grip to frantically run towards the aftermath.

 _“Nightwing_ , what are you doing? Wally hissed. “ _We have to go_.” They couldn’t do anything right now. Those kids… They could come back and check the rubble. After Nightwing and Robin were safe. 

‘Wally are you and the Bats okay? We’re meeting back at the rendezvous point.”  
‘Yeah we’re good.’ Wally picked up Robin (who was still unconscious, much to Wally’s arms’ dismay) and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “C’mon man, we gotta go.” 

Dick turned to him with shining eyes. “I just got him back, Wally,” he whispered. “And now he's– my brother’s gone again.” 

His mind was spinning. The only brother Wally could think of was Jason. Jason, who was full of life and anger and harsh words. Jason, who was four years dead and buried. Jason who Dick possibly couldn’t have seen. 

Silently, Wally led Dick away from the wreckage. They had the Bats back. They were safe. And by God, Wally wasn’t going to let them join Jason yet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright my dear readers, we are approaching the end. But! I plan to write a series of one-shots and drabbles afterwards in the same universe! Look out for the first one– 'Dead Birds Can't Fly' coming early November!


	6. Sometimes a Family is Three Ex-Assassins and That's Okay

According to every lesson he’d been taught, this hostage situation was not going well. The vigilantes’ friends had come for them and were not helping matters at all. In fact, they had decided to take advantage of the building's structural integrity (or lack thereof) and the items it stored to trap them in the area. 

Why had Damian agreed to this plan?

The speedster had suggested that they negotiate terms in the main area. All the while, the building was growing more and more unstable. Damian should have known when he’d heard that creaking, when he noticed how uneasy Cain was. Cain was always a good gauge of danger and right now it was high. 

A sharp crack punctuated the next moment. Damian followed the speedster’s eyes up– to the roof. It was falling, falling, falling closer and closer and– it would hit Jay, Damian realized. That angle would prove fatal. It would be a good way to take out an enemy– but Jay wasn’t the enemy. Jay was his–

Jay couldn’t die. That would be very unwise. Four weeks ago, Damian might’ve been happy at that idea. Now it brought dread, anger, sadness. So Damian lunged, rushing into the line of impact and pushing Jay out of the way. 

He and Cass couldn’t survive without Jay. But they could survive without him. They would be alright. 

Time seemed to slow down. Someone was screaming distantly. His name? The ceiling came down quickly– knocking Damian’s vision to black and leaving him only to think how he’d rather make no other choice. 

\-------

Cass didn’t like this. There was something ugly howling inside of her as she searched the wreckage. The danger had passed– she was safe– but there was still that howling howling howling. 

White, powdery dust floated around in the air still. _This was real_. Cass was glad for the mask keeping her from breathing it in. She was safe– but Jay and Damian weren’t. Damian had been lightning to push Jay out of the clutches of Death. But where were they? _Where were they?_

The other people had left. _They_ didn’t help Jay and Damian. Jay and Damian might be– Cass fell to her knees, eyes overflowing with something dangerous. _He_ would not approve. She didn’t care. She didn’t want to be alone. Not again. Never again. 

Cass sniffed and wiped her face. It didn’t matter. Because she was not going to be alone. She was going to find them and help them. 

Piece by piece, Cass moved bits of rubble. Some pieces were heavy. Some sharp. Some hurt. That was okay. She could deal with hurt if it meant Jay and Damian were safe. 

Then– coughing. Cass rushed to the sound, struggling to lift the pieces fast enough. Jay. He lay at an awkward angle, breathing fast, focusing on something not here. That wasn’t good. She pulled him out of the wreckage, grasping his arm. He yelped. Oh, broken. 

“Cass?” he breathed. “I can’t– I can’t– Get me out of here.” 

Cass obliged, trying not to hurt his arm this time. Looking at him, out of the rubble and trying to catch his breath, the first thing that Cass knew was that there were at least forty-two ways she could have killed him then and there. And she didn’t know a single way to heal him. Not really. 

“Where’s Damian?” he asked shakily, cradling his injured arm. Cass didn’t know. “ _Where is he?”_

Cass went back to the rubble to search. Though she didn’t like it, Jay searched with her. She wanted to tell him to rest until she found Damian. But he was stubborn. And she couldn’t fight him with words. Not yet. 

But it was Jay who found Damian in the end so Cass was half-glad she hadn’t sent Jay away. Damian lay there, eyes closed amongst the fallen debris. Cass saw the broken leg. She wasn't sure what else there might be. 

Jay helped her carry him from the building. She would take them to help. To Sannah. She would know what to do. 

Holding Damian was... different. He was small–smaller than she’d thought he was. And though he was still unconscious, his heartbeat– growing steadier, steadier steadier was a comfort. He was warm and he was alive and he was going to stay that way. 

Cass knew where the clinic was without thinking. Her tired feet kept walking, step after step after step to help Jay and Damian. They would be okay. She would be okay. 

The back entrance was the one Sannah told her to use if she ever needed help. She needed help right now. So Cass barreled into the back room with Damian in her arms and Jay trailing behind her. 

Sannah started at their sudden appearance. Several boxes she had been organizing fell to the floor with a thud. 

“Cass, what are you–” her eyes fell to Damian and Jay. 

Cass hoped her face said what her hands couldn’t. ‘Help them.’ 

Sannah studied them for a heartbeat before responding.”Cass, can you take them to the room next door? I’ll be over in just a bit with some supplies.”

Carefully, Cass lowered Damian on the cot next door. It was stiff– not like the ones she had come to know from the safehouse. But that didn’t matter right now.

Jay collapsed into a nearby chair. “D’ya think he’s gonna be okay Cass?” He spoke carelessly, something funny tinting his voice. 

She nodded. Damian was strong. He would be okay. He would be okay. He would be okay. 

Sannah came with damp cloths. She handed them to Cass and Jay. “Try and get the dirt off while I patch up Damian. Jay, care to tell me what happened?”

Cass busied herself with wiping her face while Jay told the story. When he spoke, that voice emerged with it. It flowed differently, words sounded different, but she found herself liking its rhythm. 

“We were caught in a warehouse collapse and… Damian was bein’ an idiot. Pushed me mostly out of the way of the falling debris.” He paused to scrub at his face and hide the quiver in his voice. “Cass is the only reason we got out alive.” 

You kids need to be careful. You’re lucky Damian’s injuries are within my expertise.” Sannah sighs, cleaning the dirt off Damian’s face and bandaging some smaller cuts. Cass watched, mesmerized. She knew how to heal as naturally as Cass knew how to hurt. 

“What’s the verdict, doc?” Jay asked, breaking the silence.

“He’s got a broken leg and he’s cracked some ribs” Her hands probed Damian’s head carefully. “He doesn’t seem to have any severe head trauma which is good. I’ll give him some painkillers while I treat his leg and ribs but he should be up soon.” 

Cass felt the disquiet she’d been holding begin to evaporate.

“Thanks, Sannah,” Jay said. “Really.” 

“Don’t thank me for doing my job, Jay. I wish I had more hands but you'll have to hang tight until I finish with Damian. Cass, honey, do you have any injuries you need me to treat?” 

She shook her head no. 

Sannah worked quickly, and before she knew it, Damian’s leg was wrapped in a cast and Jay’s arm was hanging in a sling. He’d insisted on having it red. Cass had grinned at that. She could see the tiredness in Sannah’s movements too, by the time she was done, so Cass ushered her off to go rest. 

Sitting around Damian’s bed, waiting for him to wake up reminded her of their first encounter with Sannah, when Jay had been sick. Since then, there was now a Damian and Jay shaped pocket in her heart and her chest warmed at the thought. 

A small voice spoke from the bed. “ _Ukhti? Akhi?”_

Cass and Jay were at the boy’s side in an instant, sandwiching him between them. Cass clutched Damian’s hand. He gave her a small squeeze back. 

“Damian, you absolute idiot! What did you think you were doing back there?” 

“You are a valuable asset, Jay. It would be unwise to leave you to perish.” Damian reddened. “Besides, I may have come to value your companion–” 

Jay laughed. “I knew it!” he announced, rubbing his knuckles into Damian’s hair. The boy screeched and ducked away. 

Cass grinned. Happiness bubbled in her chest and she didn’t quite know what to do with it.

“What’s so funny Cain?” 

Cass brought her hands in front of her, hands flying in a motion that she had been practicing for ages. ‘ _Love. Family._ ‘

______

**-Two Months Later-**

The train to Gotham was mostly empty, which wasn’t surprising. Who in their right mind would want to go there? Unless your idea of a pleasant vacation had to do with getting mugged in an alleyway, you would avoid the city at all costs. Jay– Jason supposed it was a good thing that the three of them were a little bit crazy, then. 

He’d learned a lot those past few months. Though the kidnapping of certain vigilantes had given him his name back, it was that devastating phone call that had given him what he’d needed. An address. To home. 

It had taken weeks to rack up the courage ( and also convince Damian and Cass that this could be a good idea. They took some persuading after the results of his last plan, apparently) but he’d finally booked the train tickets last night and hauled them onboard. 

An announcement sounded, stating that they’d arrive in fifteen minutes. Jason gently shook the ex-assassins who had decided that using him as a pillow while they slept would be adequate punishment for dragging them along. “Wake up you sleepy-heads, we’re here.”

Cass pouted as she got up and straightened her headband. 

“There better be food wherever we are going Jay, or I will not be leaving this abysmal train,” Damian whined. The large cast on his leg had seemed to worsen his mood through the past few weeks, and though Sannah had finally given him the green light to lose the crutches, being hangry seemingly boosted his ‘annoying factor’ to ten. 

Jason was glad that his cast came off before Damian’s, partly so he could rub it in the boy's face. “Get up or I will do exactly that, you brat. I’d think you’d want to meet your father, but clearly, you just seem to love this train so much more so I guess–”

Damian slammed his hand over Jason’s mouth. “Stop your idle talk and we may be able to reach Father’s estate before we all starve to death.” 

The cabbie was hesitant to drive three scraggly children all the way to the prestigious Wayne Manor but obliged after being handed more than enough money. “No refunds if he doesn’t let ‘ya in, though.” 

The whole way there, all Jason could think about was if they’d recognize him. If they’d accept him. If they’d make room for him, Cass and Damian in their busy lives. Would Cass and Damian like it there? 

“Your stop, kids.” In person, Wayne Manor seemed so much larger than he’d thought. Jason swallowed and got out. This was it.

With Cass and Damian at his sides, Jason approached the mammoth gate. He could do this. It didn’t matter what they thought. Jason had Cass and Damian with him, and he was stronger for it. He pressed the buzzer. “Uh, hi.” 

The British voice answered. “State your name and your business please.” 

“Don’t be a coward _akhi_ ,” Damian whispered.

Cass squeezed his arm. Exhaling, Jason spoke again. “My name is Jason Todd and I think I used to live here.” 

A pause. The gates groaned open. Heart thudding in his chest, Jason gripped Cass and Damian’s hands and took them home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ASDFGHJ WE ARE DONE :D Thank you to everyone who read this fic, this was so much fun to write! To all of you wondering what happened with the Young Justice Team and our dear Bats, look out for 'Dead Birds Can't Fly', which will be answering those questions. See you soon!


End file.
